


Feelings Aren't So Bad When They Come From You

by firecracker189



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But they do to each other, Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Feelings, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I love them so much, Love, Natasha and Clint don't like to talk about feelings, Nighttime conversations, Non-Sexual Age Play, Protective!Natasha, hurt!Clint, it goes along with another chapter in that one because i didn't want to stop writing clintasha yet, sorta because it's companion to my age regression piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 18:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13324314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecracker189/pseuds/firecracker189
Summary: Companion to my other work The Ache Inside Ch.5; set just after Phil and Natasha's conversation in her and Clint's kitchen. Natasha (and a little of Clint's) feelings about his injuries, living without one another, what they thought when they first met and how they see one another now.





	Feelings Aren't So Bad When They Come From You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clairell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairell/gifts).



> More angst/love with Clintasha because I've missed them and I can't seem to put them down just yet. My first ship ever to ship thanks to the original Avengers movie way back when and still a favorite ship of mine and one I absolutely love. Enjoy some emotionally constipated spies talking about their love life and remembering who they were when they first met.

It didn’t matter how many times she heard about Clint getting injured or was there when he _was_ injured. It still made her entire body tense up and her heart pound in her throat, the visceral fear of losing someone that meant so much to her causing her palms to sweat.

As soon as Natasha got the news, felt herself become rooted to the spot, face betraying nothing as her mind and heart went wild with terror and worry. Forcing herself to move, Natasha woke Steve and continued about her business, until she heard JARVIS announcing the arrival of the others.

Fairly flying, Natasha’s heart did not stop crying out until she saw him sitting up in the gurney. _Alive._ She moved as fast as possible to his side, eyes not taking in anything else but his state. Though she was not prone to large shows of emotion in front of groups of more than two people, Natasha could not help herself from kissing him and showing a moment of full emotion.

As soon as she finished her conversation with Phil, she locked the door behind her and moved back to the bed, laying out beside him and keeping her eyes on every rise and fall of his chest. _Alive._

She did not know how long she had been asleep, and begrudged herself not standing watch over Clint, when she felt a hand gently tracing her cheek.

“You’re awake,” he sounded husky, slightly pained, but mostly relieved. Natasha levered herself up to look at him, that darkness playing up inside of her again. She wrapped a hand around her wrist and brought his hand to her lips, desperately kissing it.

“I… I was afraid you would not return.” She admitted to the darkness. “I do not know what I would have done if you did not.”

She felt him soften beside her as he tugged her gently closer.

“Natalia Alianova Romanova.” Clint sounded ragged, and she was sure there were tears in his own eyes to match hers. He twisted so he was cupping her cheek with the hand she had kissed. “I love you. I trust you with my life. And I wouldn’t dare die unless you’d given your permission first,” he was only halfway joking, though she did give a little smile.

“You had better not.” She threatened, and pressed close as she dared, not wanting to aggravate any injury. He turned and picked up one of her arms, kissing her wrist.

“Swear.” Clint affirmed.

“I… I love you too. You are… everything. You are humor and light and life and energy and… I would trust no-one with my life as wholly as I trust you, except for Phil.” She made the addendum, knowing both of them felt the same about their handler.

“Nat,” Clint slid a calloused hand beneath her jaw, leaning to meet her lips.

“Get some rest.” She murmured as she pulled away, sounding stronger. “We will both rest.” She lay alongside him, and he wrapped an arm around her.

“I am very glad fate led me to you, Clinton Francis Barton,” Natasha broke the silence moments later.

“I knew you were different the moment I met you,” he responded. “I couldn’t have pulled that trigger. There was something deep inside of me that kept urging me to let you live. And I knew that if I did… then something amazing would happen. And now look where we are. I have an amazing team and an even more amazing partner… in every sense of the word. All because I wasn’t able to carry out orders for once.”

“I was not sure about you at first, but then… I never knew a man that did not want to abuse me or use me for his own gain before I met you. I realize you were under cover at the time, but… you were funny, witty, charming… handsome… and I did not want it to end, even when I figured out you were sent to kill me.”

“You thought I was handsome?”

She could hear the smile in his voice and lightly smacked his arm. “Yes, handsome. Athletic and graceful and… _good_. I was drawn to you from the first time I set eyes on you in the marketplace.” Natasha rubbed her thumb across his stubbly cheek as she cupped his jaw. “You saved me, in more ways than one. And I am forever grateful.”

“You wanna know what did it for me? The moment I really knew? That night at the opera, when you wore that blue dress with the slit up the thigh, and that little diamond brooch on the left shoulder strap. You had your hair up, in curls on top of your head, and you were smoking, something they assured me was not allowed inside when I tried to do it. But then, I didn’t have as convincing assets as you did. Still don’t.” She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em, and you have some great legs. And boobs. Those too.”

“You lent me your coat when the coat check boy couldn’t find my wrap,” She recalled with a little smile, ignoring his comment about her body. She was determined not to let him spoil the mood. “And even though I could feel the weight of the gun concealed inside it… I did not even for one moment think you were a threat. I considered you someone to have fun with, someone to… laugh with, to go out with and feel…. Human. You made me feel human. Which at that time in my life, was not something I felt like often. I think that is why I took to the streets every day. I hoped to see you, even when we had not made plans, to maybe catch you at the bakery or the butcher shop or the produce stall. That maybe I could… for a moment feel like I was something. To see the boy with the bright smile and the attentive eyes and fancy myself something valuable, if only for an hour or two.”

“You know I spent every minute Coulson had me doing other things just hoping I’d run into you? Trying to convince myself that there was some way I could warn you, that there was no way you were who they told me you were. There was no way the girl with the beautiful hair and the most melodic laugh I’d ever heard could possibly… ever… commit those atrocities SHIELD had written in that file. I wanted it not to be you. I was bargaining with myself, trying to convince myself that it was a different girl, that you had some sort of body double running around somewhere, and that it was her and not you that I had to kill. Then I’d get myself back on track, thinking it was you, and then you’d come right back the next time I saw you and make me want it to be anyone else in the world except for you. You’d laugh or make a joke or touch my arm and suddenly I’d be running a catalog of other people in my head, trying to fit them onto your description so I’d have someone else to put a bullet in.” Clint stroked her arm, feeling the soft fabric of her hoodie beneath his palm. “When it came down to it, all the convincing and bargaining in the world couldn’t override what I knew about you. I didn’t want to fight you. I hoped you’d come quietly. I was glad when you got to that warehouse by the docks and you hadn’t made a fuss. But I felt like a part of me died when I raised that gun. I just… couldn’t do it. So I brought you home with me and never looked back.”

“A decision I have questioned many times, but one that I will always be grateful for. I felt a terrible sadness when you raised that gun. I did not want to see the boy I knew become a murderer, to see him live the life I had lived.”

“Little did you know about his colorful past,” Clint broke in sarcastically, and she shushed him.

“No, Clint. You have been through all of that, and you still maintain your sparkle, your life, your vitality, your… your happiness! Even at that moment when I did not know your past, I knew you were good. And I did not want to see you become like me.” She whispered, tapering off and taking his hand.

Clint squeezed her hand firmly. “I just want you to know that whatever they’d done to you at that point, whatever manipulations they’d done to you… it didn’t change a damn thing about what you made… what you still make me feel. I knew there was something good in there, just waiting to be cultivated, like a flower ready to bud. Thanks to Phil, I’ve gotten to see that. He banked on me when nobody else did, went to Fury and risked his entire job and absolutely spotless record in supporting my decision about you. And I’ve only ever gotten to see more of that goodness each day I spend with you,” he murmured and leaned to kiss her softly, calloused skin of his hand rough against her cheek.

Natasha kissed him back, sighing softly as she rested a hand against his cheek. “We make a messed up pair, don’t we?” She asked, and Liho mewed impatiently, making them both laugh.

“Well, excuse me if our story bores you,” Clint’s tone was amused as he petted her head, the cat purring deeply at the attention. “But you’re not always the most important one in the room,” he chastised the animal, who flicked her tail out and whacked him softly.

Natasha smiled at her kitten’s antics, rubbing her soft back. “Mm, he is a man, kotenok. Men always think they are the most important thing in the room.”

“Never,” Clint answered softly but honestly, staring through the darkness at her form. “That’s _always_ you.”

Natasha blushed. “Sleep, moy yastreb,” She ran her fingers through his hair fondly. “Bruce will not be happy if his patient does not get his rest.”

Clint sighed and situated himself once again, forcing himself to ignore the pain creeping back into his senses. “Yes ma’am,” he murmured cockily, eyelids already drooping. “Whatever you say.” Clint’s sentence turned to light snoring as he finally fell asleep, unable to resist the pull of his body anymore even if he wanted to. Natasha tucked his blankets more firmly around him and curled up at his side, a watchful sentry in the blackness.

As long as she had a say in the matter, Clint Barton would be there.


End file.
